


The Will of the Desperate

by whoms_account_be_this



Category: Degrassi
Genre: gay male author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoms_account_be_this/pseuds/whoms_account_be_this
Summary: She speaks, and her will becomes reality; it was a fresh epiphany in her mind, and she wasn’t ready for the consequences. Zoë locked eyes with Miles. “Tristan, if he tells anyone, including you, kill yourself.” | Supernatural AU. Dark fic. Character death. Mentions of rape, character death and other things not mentioned for spoilers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in July and finally wanted to get it out there. Let me know your thoughts and if you want more.

**The Will of the Desperate**

Miles still remembered the smell of the rain. It was a soft rain. More than a drizzle, less than a storm, though still bad enough to move the ceremony inside. Maya would have preferred it that way though, Tristan said. She had always been an indoors type of girl. She played the cello after all, and somehow that felt so right when Miles thought of her. An image danced in his mind of her playing the classical instrument with a determined look on her face and blond curls dancing in the wind created only by her passion. It was a sight he would never be able to behold.

He took a breath and pushed his thoughts back to the rain. The rain had always comforted him in a way. It was soft, cool, and almost pleasant. He brushed his hand over his damp clothes: a light blue dress shirt that was just slightly too tight for his liking, and a black jacket that he placed on the seat next to him. His fingers brushed over the drops of water that had slipped through during his frantic run to the church doors from his mother's car. If he had his way, he would have thrown himself to the ground outside and let them rain pelt his face with its comfort and his mouth wide and accepting for one of the most beautiful moments that nature had to offer. It would have been a better fate than to be plastered to the pews while fighting the urge to retch at the feint scent of mildew and rotten wood, and the untamed guilt that roared in his chest.

The scent of rain had always provided him comfort before, but now it caused him a sensation of introspection he could scarcely describe. The rain was cold and smokey with a hint of spice, like a dull cinnamon. Not surprising given the mixture ancient and young trees which surrounded this church tucked both in the middle of nowhere and the pockets of suburbia. The spice danced in his sinuses to cover the stomach turning stench of the room. The cinnamon-esque aroma reminded him of the night from his childhood when his mother filled the room with candles and gathered their family together for warmth: the warmth of the scant candle heat, the warmth of familial love, the warmth of feeling like he belonged. Those memories were old, and he knew they would one day be replaced entirely by darker memories. His family was hardly as close as they were back then. Well, they were, minus him. He was the one no one wanted... except for her. The girl who danced every night in his nightmares.

Miles shivered in his seat, and felt like all the warmth had left his body. It always happened when he thought of her... His heart jumped as he felt Tristan's hand wrap around his, and they shared a shaky smile.

"Thanks for coming," Tristan whispered as he leaned in close enough where Miles could feel the heat of his breath on his ear. They were the first words they had shared since Miles dashed in from the chilled rain, and was lead to the seat that Tristan had chosen for them.

"Of course," Miles said on reflex. It was all that there was to say. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to listen to the words the preacher or whatever the old white guy in a robe was blabbering about, but couldn't keep focus. He shifted his weight and pushed his hips closer to Tristan, and hit him with force that would have almost hurt if it were a stranger. But Tristan wasn't, and it almost felt good.

"Sorry," Miles murmured at the contact. "I'm cold," he stated plainly.

They didn't need words as Tristan pulled him into his warmth. Miles closed his eyes and melted into the heat. The two of them had been becoming close lately, and they had already discussed the 'gayness' of it. They decided it was a question best left for another time. Mourning was not a time to work on relationships or understanding of sexuality. All that mattered was that Tristan touching him and holding him was the only warmth he had felt since that night.

"Everything will be okay," Tristan promised. "It's... awful that Maya killed herself... not a moment goes by where I don't think about it. And I know that it is the same for you. But Maya killed herself of her own accord. We learned that lesson last year... it finally caught up with her." Tristan closed his eyes for a moment. "No one really blames us."

Miles nodded into the crook of Tristan's neck. The nod was a lie, but it was what Tristan needed to hear. Tristan wasn't lying with his words, and thought that they were what Miles needed to hear, but those words were for himself just as well.

The words did nothing for Miles. He took a breath, and for the first time let the scent of the rain leave his mind. Tristan smelled nice; his scent was vaguely of vanilla or Shea butter or one of those common scents that Miles' remembered his mother stocking the bathroom with his whole life. Tristan was his best friend now. His heart ached for the loss of Winston, but his lost buddy could never stand up to the wiles of Zoe. The urge to vomit came back at the thought of Winston being Zoe's next victim, but that did nothing to lessen his feelings for Tristan. And he could never let Tristan know the truth.

Miles knew the true story behind Maya's suicide, but he could never let Tristan know that there was foul play involved. The other boy would surely question his hold on reality if he ever attempted to explain what really happened. Hell, Miles doubted he could explain. It made no sense, and whenever he thought back to those days in Paris he could feel his eyes shake like his little sister's chihuahua and his skin tingle like an arctic breeze found a new home in his orbit. He felt so powerless and weak as his will was sapped from him as he watch Maya tear herself apart with a pair of scissors in a frenzy to end her life as quickly as possible.

He pushed the thought from his mind to save the church floor from his dinner. He forced his eyes closed in case the world decided to take up the hobby of spinning around him. He needed a drink, and let himself drift into thoughts of the best way to steal away into his father's liqueur cabinet and the taste of the caustic liquid as it tore apart his throat while simultaneously soothing his tongue and heart. He was awoken from his stupor by the sound of a hundred feet treading the floor.

The processions were over. Within the hour Maya's body would be six feet under.

She wasn't the one who deserved to be there. Her killer was the only one who belonged in hell. But the truth was unbelievable. Miles wouldn't have believed himself if he hadn't witnessed the look of terror in Maya's eyes. It was a look he saw in the mirror every day. Willpower was an illusion. He knew that now.

So he would accept his fate. People blamed him for Maya's suicide. How? He did not know the logical jumps required for that conclusion, but he had no doubt that Zoë's devilish fingers were at work. But there was no use in fighting it. He was a bad seed after all… at least that is what his father told him as he pushed him so hard into his bedroom door that it left a dent in the blue-painted wood.

Miles didn't feel the rain pelting his skin as they waited on his mother. The storm and winds had picked up, but the beating force of the water was more pleasant than anything. He wanted to feel his heart jump as he saw his mother's silver SUV come around the corner, but all he felt was dread. He flexed his hand in Tristan's, who gave him a squeeze in return. Tristan was his only warmth since that night, and that grip always sent a pleasant fire tingling through his skin to fight back the ice cold apathy of the world. Only warmth radiated from their grip, their bond keeping the rain from seeping into their palms.

His mother looked at them as they climbed into the backseat of the car. He saw a look in her eyes that said she was itching to question the fact that they were holding hands, or that he didn't take shotgun as he always did. But she wouldn't, he knew. She gave up on him the moment he was accused of murder. "Miles may do bad things, but he would never hurt anyone," his mother had often said as her only line of defense when his father berated him. Now she couldn't even manage that.

The ride was quiet, and Miles did the only thing he could. He focused on the small comforts that he had in life: Tristan's hand in his, his dad's liquor, and his still damp face to hide his tears.

* * *

Miles and his mother remained wordless as he led Tristan into their home. "Well, here it is," he said, mustering as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could. "My home."

"It's nice… so rich," Tristan gushed.

"I suppose," Miles agreed. "The liquor cabinet is in the living room."

Hunter and Frankie were on the couch as they entered. Hunter looked up and gave him something approaching a smile before returning his attention to the laptop in his lap.

Frankie met his eyes and followed his path to the liquor. She sighed. "I won't tell anyone."

Miles nodded as he retrieved a bottle of whiskey. "I'll see you at breakfast then," he said, holding up the bottle proudly, and letting the light of the lamp illuminate the golden liquid. "Oh, and this," he said indicating Tristan, "is Tristan. You'll be seeing a lot more of him."

"Hey," Tristan greeted. Hunter gave a half-hearted nod without looking away from his laptop.

Frankie cocked her head. "Are you trying to tell us something?"

Miles chuckled at her implication. "Not particularly."

He popped the glass bottle open as he left the room, and took a swig as he ascended the stairs. He offered it to Tristan who made a face, but grabbed it and took a small sip.

Miles closed the door behind them, and threw himself on his bed as soon as they entered. He smiled lazily at Tristan and held his hand out for the bottle, and downed more in a gulp that he should have. His head was spinning as he handed the bottle back to Tristan.

"Can you stay?" Miles asked. A hiccup shook his body as he spoke. "I don't want to be alone right night."

Tristan nodded, and climbed into bed next to him. "I'll call my mom later, but I am here for you. I don't want to be alone either."


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Paris had been a joy at first. Miles had been annoyed that his father was shipping him off, but after getting over the first hurdle Miles was happy. He was in Paris! It was a nice bonus that that cute girl Maya was there as well._

_It was annoying at first that Maya didn't want him, and her little friend Tristan was all up on defending her - he hadn't even done anything… well, yet. Miles knew he didn't have the best record with girls, but they didn't know that. Plus, he really wanted to do the two of them right. They seemed fun and like good friends. Winston had only decent things to say about them from the year they shared at Degrassi. But they didn't want him._

_It's a good thing Zoë liked him. She was sweet in the harsh sort of way, and was willing to do things Maya would never. Her voice was alluring, and he couldn't say no to a thing that she said. And why would she? She was wonderful. She helped him make friends with Maya and Tristan, and along with Winston, the five of them enjoyed their time in Paris._

_At first, Miles had nothing to complain about. Fun in the day, and tons of fun at night… and then Zoë began to realize her powers._

* * *

 

It had been over a month since Paris, but Maya never left his mind. Thoughts of her twisted his stomach, but not as much as fear of seeing Zoë at school. A part of him hoped that she wouldn't show up - hopefully she had offed herself or something. The look on her face was as horrified as the one he saw in the mirror every morning. But the snake twisting around in his stomach told him that she would be back in his life.

At least he had Tristan. They had been close since Paris, and their bond only deepened after the funeral. Only they understood each other, the only two other than Zoë who saw Maya end her life. Winston was lost to Zoë's powers.

Miles bit his nails down to painful nubs as he waited at the front of the school for Tristan. His siblings had already entered, but Miles' heart was aflutter with fear that he would encounter Zoë without Tristan by his side.

He felt an involuntary sigh of relief pass his lips as he saw Tristan walking down the sidewalk.

"Hey," Miles said as Tristan drew near.

"Hey yourself," Tristan returned.

Miles chuckled. "I… uh, new school, was waiting on you."

"How sweet," Tristan teased. "Miles is afraid of a new school."

"Not exactly."

Tristan sobered up. "Sorry. How are you siblings taking it?"

"They have each other. I only have you."

Tristan let a tentative smile return to his face. "I'll help you find your locker. Do you have your schedule? The number should be on it."

Miles nodded and handed Tristan his schedule as he followed the blonde into the school. His eyes were full of wonder as he tried to take in his surroundings. It would take a few days to learn, the public school being much different than the private schools he had attended up until now.

His heart froze as he saw Zoë, and all the pain of the last month came swarming back. He remembered the feel of her hands on his body and his lips on hers. He couldn't shake the recollection of the cold void inside of him as she played with him - whether it was getting her a drink or pleasing her in bed. At the time he thought nothing of it, but now he knew that he had no choice. Zoë was a monster of the greatest variety with a power he couldn't understand. He felt used and like an object for her desires at the mere thought that she was in the same place with him, but one thought comforted him. Whatever power she had over him didn't work anymore. He shuddered and forced the memories that came out of his mind.

Zoë smiled at him as they crossed paths, and he did his best to ignore her. Tristan greeted her excitedly, his memory having been purged of what she did to them.

"Ahh, here is your locker," Tristan said. Miles blinked, barely aware of anything since they passed Zoë.

"Thanks," Miles said, and opened it with the combination on his schedule. He closed it after making sure everything was good. "Homeroom together?"

"Yep yep!" Tristan said. "And… never mind. Let's go."

And… Maya is in there with us, Miles completed for Tristan. Scant memories of their early time in Paris were the two of them being excited to have their first period together. Now, all of that was gone.

* * *

 

The first few weeks passed without much event. Zoë tried to get his attention, but he had become a master of skirting around the school without being seen. However, it was still painful to see Zoë being so happy. She had Drew Torres, the school president, wrapped around her little finger. Miles knew without a doubt that he was a victim to her powers. Now that he knew it existed, he could see the zombie stare in her victim's eyes. She used her powers on everyone, but only sometimes were her powers in such force that he could see them walking around like puppets. With Drew, it was always true. He dumped his fiance for her, if the rumors were to be believed, and hung up a banner of Zoë in the main hall. None of the faculty questioned it, likely also her thralls.

Miles wanted to run away and hide. He was alone in this hell mouth. His stomach roiled when he thought about these powers affecting his siblings, but as long as Zoë didn't come after them, he would prefer to avoid her rather than confront her on them. All he had was Tristan, who was oblivious to it all.

Miles couldn't help but wonder why Zoë left the both of them alone. Was it guilt? Did she feel guilty for what had happened with Maya? He doubted it, doubted that Zoë was capable of human emotion at all other than greed. She wasn't afraid of her powers like he was. She wasn't ashamed of them. If anything, she had been practicing and increasing her powers. Before, she had created her thralls by accident at best. She had had complete control of him in Paris, and only by a fluke was she able to exert control over Maya. Now, she made the school itself her servant. And for what?

He couldn't even begin to think about why she did everything other than evil.

"Miles Hollingsworth, to the principal's office."

Miles groaned, wondering what he had done. He had been on his best behavior since coming to Degrassi, if only to keep hidden from Zoë. There was nothing that he could have done to get in trouble. His stomach turned as he walked his way through the hallways towards the office. His heart dropped as he walked in and found Zoë sitting at the desk.

"Let's talk," she said, and then stood up and led the way out of the school. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it? I just discovered the greenhouse. Surprisingly nice. A student group made it last year. You know, I hated the thought of coming to Degrassi at first, but things have really been on the ups."

Miles remained silent as he followed. What else was there to do? His life was still a game for Zoë even now that her powers had no control over him. He was alone in the world, and maybe if he played along with her, she wouldn't make things worse for him.

"It's alright," Miles said after a while. "The school has some nice people."

"It does," Zoë agreed. She brushed her hand over one of the plants. "And how are you?"

"Fine."

Zoë frowned. "But, really though? I can make everyone else happy but you. You elude me, Miles. I just want you to be happy."

"Yeah," Miles hissed. "Right. If you wanted me to be happy, you wouldn't have… you wouldn't have… you know."

"Don't," Zoë ordered.

Miles ignored her. "Do you know what it's like to not have control. You don't know that you're being controlled at all. You think all your thoughts and feelings are your own, you do things you don't know you don't want to do."

"Do you know what it is like to have everyone listen to you?" Zoë snapped. "To not know if anyone should like you at all."

"I don't care. I…" Miles shuddered in disgust. "The rush of feelings that I had when your powers stopped working. I still want to fall to my knees and throw up. That feeling hasn't left me once. Sometimes I just want to follow Maya's lead…"

"Stop," Zoë cried. "I never wanted this anymore than you. I just want to make things better. I've done everything I can to use my powers for good. I've left you and Tristan alone so that you can see how much good I can do. I got many students to join charity groups, and…"

"Explain Drew," Miles interrupted. "You found the most powerful guy at school and made him yours. You want the power. You want the control. And then you had him hang a banner of you in the main hall so that everyone knew who you were."

Zoë sighed. "I'll admit, there are things that I enjoy. But, I mean it Miles. I want to earn your trust."

"You can't," Miles said. He would never give her that. She had taken his trust and stomped it to dust, raped it beyond return.

"I'm trying to do good, Miles," Zoë exclaimed. "Don't you want all of this? You can help me use my powers for good. You are the only person I can't make do whatever I want. You can steer me right."

Miles felt his lips upturn into a sneer. "I'd rather die." He could see Zoë's eyes shaking before she turned away.

"Your loss," she said, and walked back towards the school.

Miles thought about heading home early, but decided to return to class. Return to Tristan. He needed his friend right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not overly happy with this story, but it has been in the back of my head for months so I am just putting the words down finally. Like, I love the idea, but I need to work on the execution.

_The were dating within the week, and Miles was so happy. So often at boarding school, girls wanted him for his money, but Zoë liked him for him. He ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with her, often joined by their friends. They explored the cafes and museums together and Miles told her all about his life. Never before had a girl cared about his past._

_A few times, he heard his friends whispering behind him back. They called him a slave and expressed worry about him? What was wrong with them? Zoë liked him and he liked her. Of course he bought her breakfast and washed her clothes. Any loving boyfriend would do that._

_It was Maya who brought it up one day, and that was when everything changed…_

* * *

 

Ever since the talk with Zoë in the greenhouse, Miles couldn't get her out of his mind. Whether it was a side effect of her powers or just her winning through sheer persistence, he couldn't say. He couldn't purge a particular question - was she evil, or did she really want to do good?

School was becoming oppressive to him. It felt like all the walls were closing in on him with the ever present fact that Zoë was in control of him every moment he was at school. The other students had started to whisper 'murderer' under their breaths - Zoë's doing no doubt. He just had to get out of here, and for once, he was grateful that he got used to skipping at boarding school.

"Hey, Tris," Miles asked after math. "Want to go get lunch?"

"Lunch isn't until after next period," Tristan chuckled.

"I know," Miles grinned, leaning closer. "I was thinking the two of us could get Chompy Chicken. You have been saying you want it, and I'll pay."

"Ugh, tempting Miles. But English…"

"It can be a date," Miles sang. He grinned as he saw Tristan's resistance's literally crumble.

Chompy Chicken was down the street from Degrassi, and no one questioned their arrival. Kids skipping class for lunch was so common that they stopped trying to catch them, and instead just allowed their absences to be the proof of their misdeeds.

Miles ordered for them - two fried chicken sandwiches - and grinned at Tristan until he agreed to eat it. "You wouldn't want to turn down food on our first date, would you?"

The thought of what he had with Tristan scared him. Sexuality was not a concern at this point, and likely never was. He liked someone, so what. It wasn't as if half the kids at school were capable of questioning with Zoë making them zombies. That was the real thought that scared Miles. Did he only like Tristan because he was the only person that he could make a connection with? He heart told him no, but he his mind was very aware of how unstable everything was now. It never felt like his own since Paris.

They took their time eating and chatted about their class and the pep rally coming that Friday. Tristan was excited - first game of the year! Miles was excited as well, though it was muted by the fact that he knew he would be unable to avoid Zoë.

After they ate, Miles managed to convince Tristan to skip the rest of their classes and come over for the pool. They swam for a bit before resting in the lawn chairs to absorb the sun.

"This was nice," Miles said aloud. "Skipping school with a friend, enjoying a nice lunch and the sun."

"Friend?" Tristan asked.

"Would you prefer boyfriend?" Miles teased. "Skipping school with my boyfriend," Miles corrected, and they shared a laugh as Miles settled into a resting position and closed his eyes to the glaring sun.

Again, the thought that he was rushing things hit him, but he didn't really care. What he and Tristan had didn't have to last, as long as it was real. As long as it was his choice and not Zoë's.

He shouldn't have thought her name because think of the devil and she always appears.

"Miles!" he heard. His blood froze at her voice. Zoë was standing over him as he opened his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he said slowly. This was the first time he had interacted with her in front of people and he didn't want to let any alarm show. Tristan looked on curiously, never quite understanding his dislike of Zoë, and Frankie… Miles' heart started to race. Frankie was here with Zoë. Why?

Zoë answered his unspoken question. "I didn't realize Frankie was your sister." A lie. "We joined a dance team together and she invited me over to practice."

"Invited?" Miles sneered. One didn't invite Zoë, she made you invite her.

"Leave us," Zoë said, and Tristan and Frankie walked away like drones. Miles felt his blood boiling. It took all of his energy not to jump her and push her into the pull, strangling the life out of her underwater. He was no murdered, and he wouldn't let Zoë make him one.

"So, I won't be your pet, so you're going to hurt my sister now?"

Zoë looked hurt. Looked, being the key term. It was all calculated. It had to be.

"I have no intention to harm Frankie, Miles. I like her."

"Yeah, right."

Zoë frowned. "I'll be honest, I was aware that befriending her would get me close to her. I know, Miles, I use people. I have accepted that. I can't not use people. But I want you to know I mean you no harm, I just want us to be friends."

"Please," Miles begged. "Leave me alone. Please. Don't hurt anyone else for me."

"Miles…"

Miles' throat felt scratchy as he spoke. "You scare 're a monster. I can't fight you, not without becoming something worse than you. Just leave me alone, please."

"Miles… please," Zoë spoke, voice small. "Help me. I'm alone…"

Her voice ripped at his heart, and a part of him wanted to reach out and help her. He took a step forward, hesitant, before pulling back. He couldn't risk it. She was a monster, a demon, something that wanted to hurt him. She had said it herself. She couldn't control him. She was afraid of him. "Go away."

"How did you break my powers?" she asked.

Miles began to walk back to his house.

"Don't run away from me!" Zoë roared.

Miles turned back on her. "Your powers don't work on me! Just stop," he cried. "You can't have me through games either. You lost."

"I know you think I'm evil, but this isn't some game to me. I don't want these powers. It hurts so much."

"You hurt? You killed Maya because I liked her."

"I didn't," Zoë cried. Tears were running down her face. Crocodile tears that wanted to drag him in before devouring his soul. "I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't even know I could."

"You sure you didn't figure it out when you made me get your breakfast every morning?" Miles growled.

"I thought you liked…"

Miles cut her off. "You sure you didn't realize when you made me fuck you?"

Zoë sneered. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it. You'd be lucky to get some of this."

"Yeah, fuck you. You could never know what your powers are like. I just…"

"Tell me! Tell me what it is like? Teach me how to stop."

Miles looked at her. She was crying and angry but also like a serpent ready to strike. "I don't know how I stopped your powers."

He let the words settle. He wanted to tell her so that she could stop, but feared also that she would destroy whatever weakness she had. At least he didn't have the information to give her.

Zoë sniffled. "I want to stop. It hurts."

Miles stiffened. Her voice sounded so real. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but his fear and anger stopped him.

"Do you really want to do some good?" Miles asked.

Zoë nodded.

"Go away. Please."

Zoë just looked at him for a while, and then her breathing picked up and he could see the rise and fall of her chest. Then he heard a crash from above as the balcony door above opened and Frankie came out.

Miles' heart froze. If she jumped… he looked one more time at Zoë, near the pool. He could push her in and overpower her, hold her under just long enough…

Then he heard another crash as Frankie threw a vase over the balcony. And then a chair. And then his Xbox, but he couldn't even muster the will to care.

His legs were shaking under him and he didn't bother to hide it. He showed his fear to her to let her know that she won. If he could convince her of that, maybe she wouldn't make anything worse happen.


End file.
